


Siren Song

by Aini_NuFire



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Hurt Lancelot (Merlin), Hurt/Comfort, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:42:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28772532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aini_NuFire/pseuds/Aini_NuFire
Summary: While passing a mysterious lake, Arthur and the Knights are drawn in by an allure they can’t describe. Only Merlin and Lancelot are immune to it, but while trying to protect their friends from an unknown threat, Lancelot might end up the prey for what lurks beneath.
Comments: 13
Kudos: 51





	Siren Song

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks 29pieces for beta reading!

"Let's stop here for a minute," Arthur declared.

Elyan gratefully dismounted from his horse; the last several hours of riding had been taxing and tedious and he'd been desperately wanting a break to stretch his legs, even though they were running short on daylight to make it back to Camelot.

His boots stepped softly over the damp grass as he set off toward the edge of a lake a few paces through the trees to their right. The water was still and tranquil, and Elyan thought he might bring his horse down to the shore to drink, buy himself a little extra time out of the saddle. But something caught his attention then, a faint susurration on the wind that morphed into a lilting hum. Curious, he made his way to the water's edge and gazed out at the empty stretch of grey under a pewter sky. The water swayed and rippled in tune with the strange melody teasing at his ears. Something bubbled out in the lake's center.

Elyan watched the frothing water begin to move closer to him. He edged one foot forward toward it, the churning eddy captivating in a strange way. Then his legs slipped out from under him and he fell with a startled yelp.

.o.0.o.

Merlin stretched his back out, side to side and forward and back until his vertebrae popped with relief. Arthur had been driving them relentlessly in order to reach home before dusk.

A cry suddenly went up, jolting them all to attention. Merlin snapped his gaze toward the direction it'd come from—where Elyan had wandered off. The knights had realized this as well and were already sprinting toward the lake. Merlin hurried after them, barreling to a stop when he caught up and they found Elyan sitting in the mud and clutching his leg.

The young man looked up with a sheepish grimace. "I twisted it."

Merlin pushed his way forward and knelt beside him. "Where?"

"Knee." Elyan grunted as Merlin prodded the joint.

"Feels like a sprain. He probably shouldn't walk on it," Merlin advised.

Percival and Leon immediately moved in to help heave Elyan up out of the mud, then helped him hobble back to where they'd left the horses.

"I suppose we can make camp here for the night," Arthur said.

No one protested, given Elyan's injury, though Merlin was a tad surprised Arthur had so readily suggested it. While the knights set about to that task, Merlin grabbed a roll of cloth bandage and went down to the lake to soak it for a cold compress. As he knelt at the water's edge and stuck his hands in the frigid water, something prickled the hairs on the back of his neck. He lifted his gaze and scanned the still waters. All was quiet.

Shaking off the weird feeling, he returned to Elyan and rolled the knight's trouser leg up so he could wrap the knee with the cold cloth. Elyan hissed at the chilled fabric.

"Sorry," Merlin said. "But it'll help keep the swelling down."

Elyan just nodded. Gwaine brought over his saddle to set on the ground so he could prop his leg up.

"Now, Merlin," Arthur called. "Dinner."

Merlin rolled his eyes. They didn't exactly have the fixings for a stew packed in their saddlebags, but he supposed he could throw together something from the rations in their packs. As he went about that, though, he kept getting distracted by his gaze continuously drifting out at the lake. He couldn't explain why, but something just felt…off. The sun slowly sank beneath the trees, turning the water almost black.

Lancelot came over and crouched next to him in front of the cooking pot. "Everything all right?" he asked quietly.

Merlin gave himself a sharp shake. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "I just have a bad feeling about this place."

Lancelot's brows furrowed, but since the knight knew about Merlin's secret, he was the last person who would casually dismiss his "feelings."

"I'll stay on guard," he promised.

Merlin nodded. There wasn't anything else to do.

.o.0.o.

Lancelot lay curled on his bedroll, listening to the silence of the night. There wasn't even a slosh or ripple of water to show there was a lake there at all. Lancelot found it strange, and after Merlin had mentioned it, he'd started feeling on edge as well. Even the forest around them was too quiet, not an owl hoot or cicada to be heard.

It wasn't time for his watch yet, but Lancelot couldn't sleep like this, so he got up and quietly stepped around his sleeping companions in search of Percival, who was on watch. Lancelot found him standing on a small knoll just past the halo of light from their campfire, staring out at the inky water.

"Percival?" Lancelot queried softly.

"I thought I heard something," he said, voice sounding slightly far away.

Lancelot came to stand beside him. "What?"

"I'm not sure." His gaze remained fixed on the dark waters, and Lancelot felt a shiver draw gooseflesh up his arms.

"Come on," he said, tapping Percival's elbow in an effort to coax him back to camp.

Percival hesitated a brief moment before sluggishly turning away. Lancelot glanced back at the almost invisible lake and then followed. He decided to just take his watch and saw Percival safely returned to his bedroll. The ensuing silence and isolation of the night quickly became oppressive, though, like a shroud trying to physically smother him. Lancelot didn't like to think of himself as terribly superstitious, but he stayed within the ring of firelight.

When he finally switched with Leon and lay back down on his bedroll, he managed to fall asleep, but his dreams were rife with a strange, haunting melody and a beautiful woman wreathed in mist reaching out to him. When her fingertips touched his cheek, he jolted awake with a sharp chill.

Everyone was as quiet and subdued as the air around them as they puttered about that morning. Merlin was checking Elyan's knee and nodding in apparent satisfaction at it.

"You should be able to ride back to Camelot, if you go easy."

Elyan's face scrunched up. "I don't know…" he hedged. "I think I should rest a little more."

Merlin blinked in confusion at him. Even Lancelot quirked a brow at the odd response.

Arthur, who had also been listening in, had his mouth pursed in contemplation. "We can stay another day," he decided.

Lancelot's brows shot up at that and he exchanged a bewildered look with Merlin. Yesterday Arthur had been anxious to get back to Camelot and now he didn't mind another delay? None of the other knights seemed bothered by it, either.

Lancelot caught Merlin's eye and they subtly moved away from the rest of the group.

"What do you think is going on?" Lancelot asked quietly.

Merlin's lips thinned into a tight line. "I don't know. I mean, it's unusual behavior, but not _wildly_ so."

No, it wasn't.

"Did you have any strange dreams last night?" Lancelot asked next.

"No, why?"

"No reason." Lancelot roved his gaze around his friends. None of them seemed to be mentioning strange dreams. "Guess we'll just have to keep an eye on things," he said to Merlin.

His friend looked unsettled but nodded in agreement.

Since they were now staying, Lancelot went out to gather more firewood. It was a dreary day and chilly, and they were going to need a lot more warmth to get through it. He spotted Arthur a ways out from the camp, standing at the edge of the lake, almost unnaturally still as he gazed outward as though transfixed by something.

Lancelot dropped the armful of wood he'd gathered and walked over. Arthur didn't appear to notice him. Lancelot scanned the lake but couldn't see what held the King so enraptured. He reached out a hand to clasp Arthur's shoulder.

Arthur startled and jerked his gaze at Lancelot.

"Sorry," he immediately apologized. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," Arthur replied, gaze drifting back out to the lake. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" he commented, voice taking on a faraway tone.

Lancelot shifted uncomfortably. He thought the lake dark and foreboding. As he gave it another look, though, the Stygian blackness seemed to take on a glittering shine instead, like onyx and obsidian glinting on a velvety surface. It was rather captivating…

A radiant face flashed in Lancelot's mind's eye, but the vision served to snap him out of the daze, for his thoughts had instantly turned to Gwen. There was none that could compete with her beauty, not even a specter of his imagination.

"We should get back," he said. "It's pretty cold."

Arthur hummed but he was slow to follow.

Lancelot picked up the wood he'd dropped, and Arthur helped, and they made it back to the safety of camp without incident. Still, Lancelot was unnerved by it all.

He went and pulled Merlin aside the first chance he got. "There's something wrong with the lake," he said in a hushed voice.

Merlin and frowned and turned his gaze that direction. "I'll take a closer look," he replied.

Lancelot figured Merlin was the best equipped of all of them to determine whether they were in danger from some unseen, _magical_ threat, but that didn't alleviate his concern.

"Be careful," he urged.

.o.0.o.

Merlin cautiously approached the lake, eyes peeled as he surveyed its tranquil surface. It seemed innocuous enough, but something niggled at the back of his mind. He felt like he was being watched.

He squinted harder at the waters, the gray sheet wavering slightly like liquid metal. Nothing disturbed them.

"What you up to, mate?"

Merlin startled at Gwaine's sudden interruption. "Nothing," he replied, forcing a smile.

Gwaine came to stand beside him. "It's very peaceful here," he commented.

"Mm-hm," Merlin mumbled.

Gwaine continued to stand there. Then he started to hum a tune Merlin had never heard before, and for some reason it sent chills down his spine. Bubbles began to burble in the center of the lake. Merlin stiffened.

"We should go," he suggested.

Gwaine didn't seem to hear him. He kept humming that song, and the bubbles started coming closer toward the shore.

Merlin flicked a concerned glance between the lake and his friend, who didn't appear perturbed by the disturbance at all. A chill crawled up Merlin's spine, bringing with it a zing of rising trepidation. Suddenly desperate, Merlin backed up a step and uttered a spell under his breath. The waters surged and thrashed, then settled, as though whatever had been beneath the surface had swam away. Gwaine stopped humming.

He blinked, then turned to Merlin. "We should get back," he said and moved away from the lake.

Merlin gave a shaky nod and followed, casting apprehensive looks over his shoulder. He had no better sense of what was out there, but it definitely felt treacherous.

The moment they got back to camp, he spoke up.

"I really think we should head back to Camelot so Gaius can look at Elyan's knee."

"I'm sure with a little more rest, it'll be just fine," Elyan immediately protested.

Merlin pressed his lips together in a thin line. "Arthur—"

"Elyan is probably the best judge of his limits," Arthur interrupted.

Merlin clenched his fists. Why wasn't any of them thinking clearly?

"Maybe someone could help me move closer to the lake for a bit?" Elyan suggested. "It seems very rejuvenating there."

"Sure," Leon readily agreed.

Merlin and Lancelot exchanged alarmed looks at that.

"I think Merlin is right," Lancelot spoke up. "We should head back."

"What's your hurry?" Arthur asked in exasperation. "It's been a while since I've had a break from kingdom responsibilities, time to spend with my friends." He gestured to all of them. "And I like it out here. Maybe we could even do some fishing in the lake."

"I really don't think that's a good idea," Merlin interjected urgently.

Arthur rolled his eyes and waved a dismissive hand at him.

This was not working at all. Merlin went over to Lancelot.

"Did you find something?" the knight asked in concern.

"There's _something_ out there, but I don't know what." Merlin gritted his teeth in vexation. "But I don't think we're going to be able to convince them to leave just yet."

"What about at all?" Lancelot murmured, glancing around at everyone. "I suppose we'll just have to keep them away from the water."

"How are you doing with it?" Merlin asked.

Lancelot shifted uncertainly. "I can feel the allure," he admitted. "Almost like something trying to call out to me, but so far I don't feel it as strongly as the others seem to."

"Well, that's good." Merlin was still worried, though. What if that pull only got stronger? Then what were they going to do?

.o.0.o.

Keeping everyone wrangled within the camp was a difficult task, especially when the knights started getting ornery over it. Short of tying them all up and dragging them away from this place, Lancelot didn't know what to do. More and more he caught his friends gazing out toward the lake as though in a trance, and every time one of them started to take a step toward it, Lancelot or Merlin would dart in and distract them with some inane thing or other. It wouldn't work forever, though.

Merlin was currently arguing with Leon about his horse's tack, insisting there was a nick Leon absolutely had to see to, which Leon was getting huffy about because there wasn't anything there. Lancelot turned in a circle in the camp and stiffened in alarm when he noticed Arthur had vanished.

"Elyan," he snapped, hurrying over to the lounging knight. "Where's Arthur?"

"Hm? Oh, I don't know." The young man turned his eyes longingly back toward the lake.

Lancelot's pulse ratcheted up and he hurried through the trees toward the body of water. He pulled up short when he caught sight of Arthur at the edge of the lake, staring out dazedly at frothing bubbles that were rapidly approaching his position.

"Arthur!" Lancelot ran forward and tried to yank the King away from the shoreline.

Arthur reacted violently, wrenching away and whirling on Lancelot so suddenly that he was caught off guard when Arthur pushed him away, hard. He lost his footing and found himself splashing backward into the water.

It was deeper than he would have expected, no shallow bank or declining slope to land on, just a vast, inky darkness surrounding him on all sides. A song filled his ears, loud and all-encompassing. Lancelot twisted around, only to stop when he saw an ethereal woman gliding toward him through the water. He felt instantly bespelled by her, and his flailing ceased. His waterlogged chainmail bogged him down, mooring him beneath the surface as she drew closer. The lilting melody in his ears grew louder, resonating deep inside his sternum. Air escaped his mouth in a flurry of bubbles and water rushed in to replace it, but he couldn't move, despite his instincts screaming at him.

Then his heart screamed too. Lancelot blinked, and in that split second where his eyes were closed against the unearthly visage, he saw Gwen. Something snapped inside his mind, cutting off the mesmerizing tune, and when he opened his eyes again, the enchanting woman was gone, replaced by a pale creature with gills, webbed fingers, and beady black eyes. Its mouth split into a razor lined orifice and it let out a screech that felt like spikes being driven into his eardrums. In a swirl of bubbles, it struck like a cobra.

.o.0.o.

Arthur staggered, blinking in confusion. He wasn't sure what had just happened. One minute he'd been listening to the most beautiful music, then Lancelot had interrupted him and…he'd fallen into the lake. Arthur straightened as he spotted the waters writhing and bubbling where Lancelot had gone in…and he wasn't coming back up. Something shrieked, an ear-splitting scream that had Arthur flinching away and clapping his hands over his ears.

"Arthur!" someone shouted behind him as the others came barreling through the trees from their camp.

"Lancelot's in the water!" he yelled back, because that was the only thing he was certain of. And something was down there. The waters continued to thrash, and Arthur got a glimpse of a pale green fin.

He drew his sword, along with Percival, and the two of them charged into the water without a second thought, diving into its frothing depths in search of their friend. Within the murky water, Arthur finally caught sight of the hideous creature. It yanked its head up and away from Lancelot's neck, a plume of red bursting forth like ink through the water. The creature hissed and wrapped lanky arms around the knight as it attempted to swim away with him.

Arthur and Percival surged after it, striking out with their swords. The blade felt heavy in Arthur's grip, like the water was laden with minerals weighing them down. So he gripped the hilt with two hands and stabbed at the thing along the outside so as not to accidentally hit Lancelot. Dark green stains spilled forth to mix with red.

Even underwater where sound should have been muffled, the creature's shrieks were like ice picks in their ears. But Arthur and Percival kept after it until it finally gave up, relinquishing its captive and swimming away. Arthur and Percival both reached for a limp Lancelot and kicked their way to the surface. They broke through with a desperate gasp for air, a series of coughs threatening to derail them.

The other knights splashed into the water to help haul them all out and safely onto the bank. Lancelot was laid in the mud, his eyes closed and pallor almost blue. Merlin rushed in and pressed an ear to his mouth, then his chest. He jerked upright with wide eyes.

"He's not breathing."

Arthur rocked back on his haunches in horror, water running down his face in streams.

Gwaine pushed his way in. "Move," he told Merlin tersely, then raised a fist and slammed it down on Lancelot's chest.

"What are you doing?" Merlin exclaimed.

"I saw someone do this once when a child almost drowned." He thumped Lancelot's chest again, then a third time.

Everyone was watching with bated breath, silently begging for Lancelot to take one of his own. Then he did, a ragged, guttural cough that brought up frothy liquid. Gwaine quickly rolled him onto his side so he wouldn't choke on it. Arthur nearly sagged in relief as Lancelot expelled the fluid from his lungs. But just because he was breathing again didn't mean he was out of danger. His neck was a shredded mess and still oozing sluggishly.

Merlin yanked off his own scarf and pressed it to the wound.

"We should get away from the water," Leon said.

Arthur gave a sharp nod and pushed himself to his feet. He was slightly unsteady, and someone reached out a hand to brace him. He gave Elyan a numb nod as Gwaine and Percival lifted Lancelot to carry him back to camp, Merlin lumbering along while trying to keep pressure on Lancelot's neck. The rest of them followed.

"Are you all still feeling drawn by the lake?" Merlin asked warily as they laid Lancelot down on his bedroll.

"Definitely not," Arthur said. He hesitated, though. "But we should probably get far away from here as quickly as possible."

"I need to stop this bleeding." Merlin lifted the scarf to see underneath and scowled. "I can't treat this. He needs Gaius."

"Can he be moved?"

Merlin shook his head. "We don't have a choice. If he doesn't bleed out, he could freeze to death." He cast a concerned look at Arthur. "You and Percival need to get warmed up too."

"We'll ride hard for Camelot," Arthur decided. Which he now realized they should have done much earlier. How could he have been so blasé about staying out here? "Pack up," he ordered, though of course the other knights were already hurrying about doing just that. They knew how urgent the situation was.

Arthur cast one last look at the lake, now gray and ominous, and suppressed a shudder. Then he turned his back on it and helped gather up their things, determined to get his knights back home safely. All of them.

.o.0.o.

Merlin stoked the fire in Gaius's chambers and then turned to check the blankets piled on top of Lancelot. After a harrowing journey back to Camelot and then a desperate attempt on Gaius's part to stitch that mess of a neck wound, Lancelot was still alive, though they were continuously having to work at keeping him that way. It had been touch and go that first night, and still was in some ways, for he had yet to wake and remained chilled from both his plunge in the lake and the blood loss he'd suffered. At least there hadn't been any signs of infection. Small blessings.

The door creaked open and Arthur poked his head in. "How is he?"

"The same," Merlin said with a sigh.

Arthur came inside and shut the door, expression also looking discouraged. "I owe Lancelot an apology," he said, coming to stand over the cot. "And I would like the opportunity to give it to him."

Merlin huffed and turned back to the fire.

Arthur shifted toward him. "I owe you an apology too, Merlin," he admitted. "I don't know why the two of you weren't as affected as the rest of us, but I should have listened to you."

Merlin shrugged. "It was a powerful creature; it wasn't your fault."

"Still," Arthur said, gaze drifting back to their unconscious friend. "Lancelot was only trying to protect me and nearly died for it."

"He'll pull through," Merlin insisted. He couldn't bear to let himself think otherwise.

Silence lingered between them for a few long moments after that.

Arthur cleared his throat. "Where's Gaius?"

"Getting more supplies."

"Isn't that usually your job?" Arthur asked wryly.

"Yes, but…" Merlin trailed off and looked at Lancelot. The truth was he hadn't wanted to leave, just in case… And Gaius had understood.

Arthur's teasing expression sobered. He shifted his weight where he stood as though unsure whether to stay or go.

"Arthur," a frail voice whispered from the cot.

Both of them straightened and quickly moved closer.

"Lancelot?" Merlin called.

The knight's eyes slowly peeled open and he gazed up at them groggily. Merlin smiled with such immense relief.

Lancelot looked at him, then up at Arthur. "Everyone…alright?" he rasped.

Arthur smiled fondly. "Yes. Thanks to you. I owe you my life, and I'm so sorry for what happened."

Lancelot's eyelids drooped. "'S alright," he said, voice threadbare and frayed like the wound in his neck.

"It's not alright," Arthur insisted.

"Mm. I felt the creature's pull…when I was under…" His eyes jerked open with a flash of remembered terror before exhaustion muted it. "Was strong." A shiver wracked his still fragile body.

Arthur laid a gentle hand across his friend's brow. "Just rest. It's over now."

Lancelot's eyes drifted fully closed. Arthur lingered a moment longer, then stood and nodded to Merlin before heading out.

"Merlin," Lancelot murmured.

Merlin quickly moved back to the side of the cot. "Yes?"

Lancelot forced his eyes open and looked around the room. "I hate to ask, but…" He shivered again.

Merlin smiled knowingly. It was just the two of them here. He whispered a spell of warmth and peace that soothed his friend back into a restful sleep.

Yes, he would be all right.


End file.
